


Touchdown

by shealynn88



Series: Old Before Their Time [2]
Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, UST, s1e18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-11
Updated: 2007-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: There's not much to do in Dillon except watch football...





	Touchdown

Billy's just considering getting another overpriced coke at the concession stand when he sees Tyra standing two rows down. She's nodding and rolling her eyes and edging away from some kid who keeps leaning in, and Billy doesn't realize he's clenching his jaw until it starts to ache.

He steps up on the bleachers in front of him, ignoring the irritated glances of the couple he's sliding between, and then he steps up to the boy and puts a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

He owes her for helping with Tim the other night. There's nothing else to it. He just owes her, is all. 

"You mind giving us a minute?" he asks, and he makes sure he's showing all his teeth as he steadily tightens his grip.

"Umm…yeah, sure," the boy says, backpedaling and then tripping over his own feet when Billy lets go.

Tyra laughs as they watch him leave. "You didn't need to do that, you know. I had it under control."

Billy shrugs. "Just makin' myself useful—" The cheerleaders start chanting and the crowd drowns him out. When it fades to a dull roar, he manages to yell, "I thought you didn't like football."

She raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Everything's closed. It's this, or the fascinatin' sight of the living room paneling." 

The crowd explodes as the team runs out on the field, and Billy gets caught up in the pre-game energy. When he glances over, Tyra's hollering at the top of her lungs, "_Come on, Panthers!_"

He smiles. Yeah, the girl obviously _hates_ football.

Her eyes don't leave the field, but she leans toward him as the volume drops off a little. "Anyhow," she yells. "It's the playoffs. It's like a religious experience—I wasn't here, they might get it in their heads to burn me at the stake."

He grins over at her and then the game is starting and conversation is abruptly impossible.

The game is close all the way and Billy screams himself hoarse through the first half.

"Hey!" Tyra yells as the band takes the field at halftime. "You want a coke?"

"How about a beer?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, good luck with that."

He grins. "Come on!" he tells her, and he starts elbowing his way toward the exit.

"You wouldn't be leavin' the game early, now, would you?" she asks when he turns toward the parking lot.

He shakes his head. He hasn't missed a game since the first time his dad left. "Not on your life. But I didn't think you'd miss the cheers, and I was looking for something a little stronger than cola."

He leans through the open window and grabs the six-pack from under the passenger seat. "Interest you in a beer?" 

She laughs. "Absolutely."

They sit on the hood of the truck and listen to the cheering in the distance. He comes out here nearly every game—he's got the timing down so he doesn't ever miss a minute of play anymore.

"Don't you usually drag your sister along to these things?" he asks.

She tips her head and looks at him through long eyelashes, amused. "I'm sorry, was it my turn to bring you a date?"

He sputters into his beer, laughing. "No, I can get my own entertainment, thank you. Just making conversation."

"Yeah, okay." She takes a drink and then sets the can beside her. "I think she's out of town, tonight. I would have brought my mom, but she hasn't been much for company lately. She's been kinda down with—well, with everything." She glances over and flashes a wry smile. "Good thing talk doesn't bother _me_ anymore, huh?"

He thinks about how everyone looked at him when his dad left. "Yeah," he says, lifting his beer in her direction. "I hear that."

The band starts up again and he stands up, draining his beer before tossing the can back in the passenger seat. "Ready?"

"Always," she says, following his lead and dropping the empty can in the truck. She grins over at him and then runs ahead to the entrance, raising her hands like she's made a touchdown. When she looks back her face is flushed and her hair is blowing in the wind; he's reminded suddenly how beautiful she really is.

He looks away and steps past her, and they make their way back to their seats.

When the game starts up again, Billy doesn't bother to sit. The score's too close and he's too wound up. There's seconds left on the clock when the Dragons get possession again.

The quarterback throws high and long; Billy jumps when Tyra's nails bite into his wrist. He glances over at her and she's watching the field intently, lips just parted, eyes shining—

He looks back at the field just in time to see the ball fall into the end zone. There's a mass of players, blue and white, hands in the air. The receiver reaches out and a lineman tips it away. Billy holds his breath until the ball hits the ground, and then he's screaming as the entire stadium goes crazy and the Panthers flood the field, whooping in victory.

Billy throws his hands in the air and then Tyra has her arms around his neck and he's spinning her around; there's popcorn flying through the air and everyone is screaming and jumping up on the bleachers in celebration. 

He can smell Tyra's hair and she's laughing against his ear and he's suddenly aware that he's swinging his brother's ex-girlfriend around in front of most of Dillon, and he's enjoying the hell out of it.

He lets her go slowly, and she looks up at him with her eyebrows just slightly raised, like she knows he's not thinking about football anymore. He clears his throat. "Good game."

Her mouth quirks up on one side and she looks like she's trying not to laugh. "Yeah. I'm lookin' forward to another week of 'how football makes the world go 'round.'" Her smile makes it a joke, and she nudges his arm with her elbow. "Go on, now. Go congratulate your brother." 

"Do you want to, ah—" he gestures vaguely at the field, not sure if she and Tim are talking yet.

She shakes her head and backs toward the parking lot. "I should really head home." She gives him a quick wave. "I'll see ya."

He doesn't have time to respond—she's turning and moving toward the exit and he's left feeling just a little empty.

He heads toward the field before he can think about why.


End file.
